Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne
His name was Lt. Benjamin Hall and at that moment, he was riding south in search of Captain Casion. The Captain had been late in reporting in, but the war was early. Calidan had been invaded and every unit south of it was now heading North to meet them.
Except for Lt. Hall.
Their orders was contained in a mail bag and he had orders to deliver it to Captain Casion without delay. He had tracked down the group to a tavern, only to find it burned to the ground. He found their trail and had lost it, until he heard the sounds of fighting.
He followed the sounds of combat, but they soon died off. His horse walked into a clearing and Hall let out a low whistle. The ground was covered in corpses and the grass drenched in blood. Hall looked around and dismounted from the horse. He stretched his legs before checking the bodies.
She woke up to being jostled carefully, but she didn't open her eyes. "Stow-ow-ow-ow-op, I'm gonna puke." she said as quickly, and loudy, as possible in her state.
"You're awake," someone said sounding surprised. "Keep quiet."
She opened her eyes. They hadn't stopped, and now, with her headache, backache, stomach ache and that she didn't know who these people were, she was not going to keep quiet.
"No, I'm going to make as much as possible until you let go of-- ah!" she tried to fight back, but then the flesh of he back tore. Aaron cringed and tensed, falling off the horse with a loud thud. With a groan she listened to the other riders halt and unmount. One man knelt beside her and put his arms under her neck and knees.
"We're trying to help."
**I didn't want to mess up or god-mod, so I'm sorry if I did! I was just trying to revive this and get my character in.**
Religion without science is lame; science without religion is blind.
Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the the universe.
Education is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned in school.
After the battle and with the help of several od the others, Mikael was finally drawn out of his blood lust fueled battle rage. He didn't speak much after that, almost as if he were embarassed by the feirce seeming power he had. Leaving the bodies of those who had fallen for the swarm of carrion birds, the group had licked their wounds, mounted there varying steeds and rode off, eager to complete there journey. Mikael took the wounded figure, who he now knew to be female according to the noblewoman, and lay her across the front of the great wolf. "I'm sorry my old friend." I whispered to the great beast, before mounting him and setting off with the grew. After a while the figure grew restless. "Stow...ow...ow...op." "Be quiet." "No, I'm going to make as much noise as possible until you let go-- ah!" With all the wriggling she had managed to fall off the mount. Mikael dismounted, lifting the woman seemingly with out any effort and placed her back on the mount. "We're trying to help."
I have looked into the eye of the storm and stared it down. I am an adrenaline junky and i know no fear.
Given his former profession, and the skills he'd picked up in skirmishing as a result, Desmond had been assigned rearguard duty. It was his job to ensure that no bandits were able to get the drop on them, particularly considering their situation. While not helpless, they were mounted, and he didn't think any one of them was properly trained in cavalry combat, given that they'd all elected to fight on foot so far. Granted, Mikael and Bastilla were possibilities, but Bastilla wasn't exactly in a position to fight, and woodland fighting was unlikely in the case of the islander. Moreover, they were burdened by an injured girl.
Not completely helpless, but not in the best situation either. Desmond kept his senses carefully attuned to his surroundings, noting every rustle, discerning whether it was enough to be caused by the movement of a human or horse.
And soon, his efforts paid off, though not in the way he suspected. The hoof falls of a horse trotting on the trail behind them reached him. But only one horse, and there were no companions that he could hear. Either this was a very stupid bandit, or he didn't know they were there.
He drew his pistol, cocking it, and stopped his horse in the middle of the path. Soon enough, the horse and rider emerged from around the bend, and Desmond leveled his weapon. "And who would you be?"
The rider looked Desmond over quickly. "Well, I'd assume you were a bandit, though not just anyone carries an Altridge pistol..." He cut himself off, rising in the saddle somewhat. "Lieutenant Benjamin Hall, looking for Captain Casion's irregulars."
Desmond gave him a wary eye, easing the hammer of the pistol back into place and lowering it. "Well, you've found us. Desmond Tamar, er, currently rearguard. He turned his horse, kicked her into a canter, "Casion's this way. Follow."
He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt. - Yossarian, Catch-22
Wide-eyed stupid.
If you're gonna rule the world, you've gotta get up early! - Joel S. Dickens
"Lead on Mr. Tamar," Hall said after he had gotten back on to his horse. He took Desmond at his word, a highway robber would have no reason to keep him alive. A dead man is easier to steal from. So he felt quite safe, if a little nervous, about following the man back to the camp. The trail back was invisible to his eyes, but Desmond followed it like an experienced tracker. Hall noted this in silence.
Presently, they arrived in a clearing, a small band of people looked Hall over. One of them walked over.
"Who's this, Desmond?"
"A Lieutenant Hall. I found him near where we had the skirmish," Desmond answered. The man turned to face Hall.
"Anyone with him?"
"No one that I could see."
"Go ahead and double back just to make sure."
"Will do," Desmond replied, leaving them.
"Well Lieutenant?" the man asked.
"Sir, I'm Lieutenant Hall, of Von Clarif's First Engineers. My orders are to place this message in Captain Casion's hands, immediately."
"I'm he. Hand it over." Hall did so. He watched as Casion's eyes scrolled across the paper. His eyes flashed up from the paper.
"Have you read this?"
"No sir, my instructions were only to deliver this into your hands."
"They don't send Combat Engineers to deliver messages. You'll be coming with us. We'll be doing some demolition work up north."
Brunn looked up at the newcomer, eyes narrowed. Altridge, definitely. He didn't have a problem with people from the college, but there was a real problem with them sending men to battle who'd be better suited to a strategist's position behind the lines. Some had so little common sense he wouldn't bother letting them that near a fight. No, he'd rather see a student of Altridge developing weapons in a lab. This man seems dependable enough, he thought. Maybe I'm being unfair.
He knelt and began untying Bastilla. "It looks like we're moving again. No sudden moves if you please. You may not be armed, but that don't mean much."
"Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one-- the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts." --The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis
